Un-Minority Report
by secooper87
Summary: Because in the future, they've all seen that movie, too.
1. Prologue

Seo and Jack raced back into Oliver, Seo attired in ratty jeans and a T-shirt, Jack in his usual military greatcoat.

"Not that year!" Seo said, racing to the console and adjusting the controls. She yanked down a lever. "Let's try next year!"

Oliver sprung into life, tumbling through the vortex.

"You know, we only looked in one dorm, at one event," Jack offered. "We could have missed her."

"Missed her?" Seo shook her head. "They're dropping a piano from the roof of Baker House, Jack! Where and when else would you be at MIT?"

Jack gave her a sidelong glance. "Uh…"

The ship fell silent, as it landed.

"There! Baker House, MIT, one year later — 1973!" Seo said, rushing out the door. "Come on, Jack! We have to find Jenny!"

Jack sighed, following her. "I think you just wanna see the piano drop."

They went to 1973.

Then 1974.

Then 75.

And on, and on, and on, and on.

Still… no Jenny. No trace she'd ever been to any of those years.

"We know she's somewhere around MIT, right around the time of year when they drop that piano," Seo muttered. "One of these years has to be right!"

Jack nodded, slowly.

These sisters really needed to get a better way to track each other down.

"If we just go through all of them…" Seo began, setting the controls to Baker House, 1981.

"You know," Jack cut in, "these are MIT students at these events. If we go to every single MIT piano drop, wearing the same clothes and looking the same age, they're going to notice. And they're going to figure it out."

"So we'll change clothes!" Seo said, racing back to her room. "We have to find Jenny! It's important."

They changed clothes, for 1981.

And for 1982.

All the way until 1995… but still…

No Jenny.

"Not seen anyone like that named Jenny," an MIT student told Seo, after she'd given him a description. "Is she a time traveler, too?"

Seo jumped. "What?"

"Come on, you've gotta tell us how your time machine works," said another student, barging in on the conversation. "We've got all kinds of theories."

Seo turned on her heels, grabbed Jack by his shirtsleeve and dragged him away from his latest attempt to flirt with the professors, and raced away from Baker House.

Only just managed to lose the pursuing students, before heading back to Oliver. At which point, Seo slammed the doors, breathing hard.

"Good time to stop?" Jack proposed.

Seo stared at him. "And miss Jenny?!" She raced back to the central console. "No! We'll just skip ahead fifty years. By then, everyone will have forgotten. We'll be anonymous, again. And we can check the records to see if Jenny's shown up."

So they went to the Annual Piano Drop of 2052. And then the one in 2102. And the one in 2152.

Sure enough, people seemed to have forgotten that Seo and Jack were time travelers.

But still… no Jenny.

And it was a little more effort than before — Seo and Jack having not only to slip away from Baker House to check records, but also… before even emerging from Oliver… to race through the ship, trying to dress correctly for whatever the next piano drop would bring. Always stepping outside and double-checking the dress code, to make sure they were wearing something that would blend in.

Turned out, over the 21st and 22nd centuries, the Piano Drop was elevated from a bunch of students chucking a piano off the top of Baker House, to a formal event and dinner on the roof of that same house, where speeches were made, a piano revealed, a concert played upon the instrument…

And then it was thrown off the roof.

"This glass piano was built especially for this 180th MIT Piano Drop," announced the Professor who had designed it. He quickly rattled off a scientific explanation for how he and his grad students had gotten the resonances to actually work, to allow the piano to sound like a normal piano. "And, of course, because of these properties," the Professor concluded, heading over to the piano, "each key will sound slightly sharper or flatter, depending on how you press it." He demonstrated for the crowd.

The piano lit up in an array of different colors, growing more red as the tone went gradually sharper, and more blue as the notes went gradually flatter.

The crowd applauded.

"We did the colors," one of the grad students whispered to Seo, leaning over. "Impressive, huh? No electronics involved — it's all built into the properties of the glass, using resonance to bring out the different natural hues."

"Impressive," Seo said.

"Yeah," the grad student replied. Then, with a smirk, "Bet it's not as impressive as what you guys saw last piano drop, though. Huh?"

Seo did a double-take. "What?"

"You know. Fifty years in the future." The grad student shrugged. "That's gotta beat out this one."

Seo didn't know what to say. "I… I… don't…"

A second student came over, a cocktail in his hand. "No, of course she doesn't," he butted in. "The last one she went to was fifty years in the past, not the future."

"I'd better go," Seo said, spinning on her heels and racing away.

"No, wait!" shouted the grad students. "Are you going forwards in time, or backwards? We wanna know who won the bet!"

Seo dragged Jack back to Oliver, as they frantically tried to evade curious MIT students who had already found it, and were trying to analyze it.

They took off.

"No more piano drops?" Jack asked.

"No more piano drops," Seo agreed. "We'll find Jenny another way."

Problem was… while Seo and Jack were both agreed… Oliver wasn't.

And, ultimately, it was Oliver who was in control.

When Seo tried to direct Oliver to a random spot in space and time, to explore — Oliver overrode the controls. Eager to continue to run through MIT history! He materialized right on the roof of Baker House, 2202.

When Seo and Jack emerged, everyone was expecting them.

And applauding.

"As usual, it looks like our time travelers have decided to join us — just like they do every fifty years," announced the female Professor, who was currently giving the speech about the piano she and her research team had designed. She looked directly at Seo and Jack. "I'm sure you'll be flattered to know that practically every student from Course 140T is here, today, specifically for you."

Turned out, the students from Course 140T were the ones studying temporal theory.

A department partially inspired by Seo and Jack, themselves.

Seo's face went bright red.

But it was too late to go back to Oliver, now. Not when they were being mobbed by students trying to figure out how everything worked, and trying to take readings and measurements.

"Oh, there are lots of different theories about who you are," one of the students explained to Seo. "But I think the students are pretty clear on it. You're us, from the future. You invented time travel, and thought… why not pull the all-time best prank in MIT history?"

Seo forced a smile on her face, and gave a nervous laugh. "Was it that obvious?"

"Obvious? It's great!" shouted another student. "Totally what I would do, if I discovered time travel! Go back and screw with everyone's heads by putting yourself into all the MIT piano drops!"

"With the time machine that looks like a Pablo Picaso painting," said a third student, examining the mess of colors and shapes that represented Seo's ultimate failure to fix the chameleon circuit. "What's it supposed to be?"

"Uh…" said Seo.

When Seo and Jack returned to Oliver, they were a little more rattled. A little more shaken. And even more determined not to see any more MIT piano drops.

They fiddled with Oliver. Tried to force it to go somewhere different.

Anywhere except Cambridge, Massachusetts, at the 280th annual piano drop.

"I thought you could control the flow of energy," Jack said, "and override the coordinates to make sure this ship went wherever you wanted."

Seo gritted her teeth. "So did I," she muttered. Yanking a lever, irritated. "But it looks like, now that Oliver's grown up, he's found a way to override my override."

Jack chuckled, patting Oliver. "Mischievous little kid."

"Mischievous little time machine!" Seo retorted, smashing the console with the heel of her shoe. "And naughty!" She leaned down, so her face was directly above the console. "You hear that, Oliver!" she shouted. "I said you were naughty! And I stand by it. Now stop taking us to Massachusetts!"

With much persuasion, Oliver moved them to another planet. Seo breathing a sigh of relief, when she realized she'd finally managed to convince her ship to stop taking them to MIT piano drops.

Seo and Jack emerged.

To discover themselves face-to-face with the top of a high-rise building, a piano, a string orchestra, and a bunch of students and professors in formal dress.

Turned out… MIT had moved the Piano Drop to one of its extension campuses.

Off-world. On a planet everyone just called "Planet 3."

"It made sense," one of the students explained to Seo. "After all, the Piano Drop is basically an annual competition, in the material sciences department, to determine who can build a functional piano out of the most ridiculous materials available — but one which will still smash to bits when you throw it off a building. Why keep it on Earth, when all the material science departments are here?"

"That wasn't how the Piano Drop started out in 1972," Seo said.

The student shrugged. "Times change."

That much was obvious from the student population, which seemed to be currently composed of a mix of humans and aliens. And from the obvious resentment between the students in Materials Sciences and Engineering, and the students in Spacio-Temporal Engineering.

"Basically, we want to send the piano through a wormhole," said one of the Spacio-Temporal Engineering majors. "Or several wormholes. We're pretty sure if we send it through the right quantum gateway, we temporarily phase the piano — for part of its fall — into a universe in which the piano both exists and doesn't exist, simultaneously. Then, put it through another wormhole, to undo the effect, and allow it to change back to smash when it hits the ground." The student crossed her arms. "But the jerks in Material Sciences won't let us. Because this is 'their thing'."

"If you come back next year, you'll see — this'll all come to a head," said another student. "Make no mistake about that."

Perhaps Oliver had overheard this.

Or perhaps TARDISes just knew these kinds of things, automatically.

But Oliver skipped them ahead a year, to exactly the same spot. Where Seo and Jack discovered that the Annual MIT Piano Drop had been suspended, as the students from one department kept sabotaging anything prepared by the students from the other department.

Seo and Jack did what they could to put things right.

They were half expecting Jenny to show up and help them out. After all… they knew she had to be around here, at some point — and this was just the kind of thing that'd get her attention!

But still.

No Jenny.

And when Seo and Jack showed up, next, at the 380th Piano Drop, they found a piano made from running water, with a special substance laced into the water molecules to make the piano actually look and play like a piano. The piano's water supply was renewed by a constant stream of water from a dimensional anomaly incorporated into the material built into the core of the piano, itself. It didn't sound quite like pianos from the 21st century, anymore.

But it did play.

And, when they threw it off the building, it went through a wormhole that would change its physical properties so that the piano was now made of wood, just in time for it to smash on the ground.

"Looks like we didn't find Jenny," Jack said, as they walked back into Oliver, "but we did help the MIT extension campus to learn to work together."

"Let's see if Oliver can take a lesson from them," Seo proposed, "and show that kind of compromise with us." She raced to the central console, trying — once more — to make the ship stop going to MIT.

Oliver groaned into life.

And slid into the vortex. Seo's face turning into a delighted grin, as Oliver slipped past the year 2352, and further into the future. Looked like Oliver had finally gotten over his fixation with MIT.

"Next stop," Seo announced, "anywhere except Baker House!"

Which was when Oliver suddenly went crazy.

Throwing Seo and Jack to the floor, as it bucked. The controls sparked and fizzled. The ship slammed himself against the edges of the vortex, making every system go haywire, and making the ship cry out as if in pain. Seo tried to calm her ship down, but found herself instead being thrown to the floor once more — as the ship slammed into an emergency crash landing.

Seo coughed.

Got up from the ground, looked out the window. They were positioned between two brick walls, nothing exciting there. She checked the flickering display on the console, to find out where and when they were.

"Oh, you're kidding!" Seo said. Pointing to it. "Baker House?! Again?!"

"Guess this ship of yours really likes destroying pianos," Jack replied, also coughing, trying to dust off his jacket. He peered at the display, just before it flickered off, for good. "Can't get a fix on the time coordinates, though, looks like. But I'm guessing it's a lot more in the future than the 33rd century."

Seo sighed. Then turned around, and pushed her way out the doors.

"Better see what Annual Piano Drop this is," she said, as she emerged outside. "After a ride like that, I could do with…"

She trailed off.

Jack stepped out, behind her. "Could do with a drink?" he guessed. "Funny, that's exactly what I was going to—"

Then Jack stopped.

Frozen, as the two stared out at the landscape, around them. The ruins of Baker House, and the ruins of a city. Buildings crumbling before their eyes, as if all this had been abandoned for a very long time.

Rats scuttled along the road.

And the only sound was that of the empty wind.

"I think… we missed the Piano Drop," Seo said, in a whisper.

Jack's eyes lingered in the distance. "Looks like whatever happened, here," he muttered, "dropping pianos is the least of their worries."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I got sick.

Despite the introduction, the entire rest of the story is Jenny.

Enjoy!

* * *

Jenny emerged from her ship, coughing and waving away smoke. Something had sent the controls haywire — just like it had sent all her senses haywire. She could tell, just by stepping outside, that something was happening, here. Something she needed to get involved in.

Probably something she needed to stop.

The city was a ruin.

Obviously, at one time, this place had been swarming with people. Now, there were only a few hundred people left. All living in broken-down hovels — the ruins of their city.

Jenny went to the only local bar that was still in business.

Started talking to people, trying to figure out what happened, here. What was still happening.

"You don't know?" the man eyed her, suspiciously. He had gray hair, sunken eyes. Looked like he'd lived through too much. "You're one of those orphan kids, huh? Growing up living like rats on the streets?" He turned away, with disgust. "I bet half the murders here could be prevented if we wiped all you guys out with a single strike!"

"I'm not an orphan," Jenny insisted. "I'm an investigator from one of the outer systems. I'm here to find out—"

"—what happened, here?" the man laughed, bitterly. "Oh, I heard about you 'investigators'. My grandfather said that, when he was a boy, investigators showed up. Trying to dig around. Find out what happened." He took another drink. "Died almost the moment they arrived."

"She did come prepared," the bartender offered. Gestured at Jenny's gun. "Armed."

Jenny laughed. Took out her gun, showed it to them.

"Not loaded?!" The man cried.

"Almost never is, these days," Jenny replied. Replaced it back in her holster. "I dunno. Sometimes I think… the older I get, the more I take after my dad."

The bartender looked Jenny up and down. "You're a brave woman," he said. "Showing up here with no way to protect yourself."

Jenny looked outside. War zone, she guessed.

Probably made a no-go area, after the investigators failed to return. No wonder these people weren't expecting to find any strangers, here. From the looks of it, this planet had basically been sealed off from the rest of the universe a long time ago.

"It's the students who started it," said the old man. "You know how young people are. They get all these ideas about changing the world and turning their home into a utopia — but then it all goes wrong. It did, here."

"Is there still a lot of violence?" Jenny asked.

The bartender and the old man looked at each other. As if the question amused them.

"You'd think not, huh?" the bartender said. "But I haven't lived through a single day without hearing gunshots. And I'm guessing neither has anyone else that's left."

"It's those street orphans," said the old man. "I used to be a cop, you know. I saw all the crimes those kids committed. They're barely more than animals — but when they find guns, they use them. I told the guys on the force that if we just used our knowledge to our advantage, we could…" He trailed off.

Staring into the distance.

"Everyone's thought about it," the bartender assured the old man. "But you know no one would ever actually do it. No matter what."

The old man nodded. His face sad.

Then he sighed.

Checked his watch.

And got up.

"It's time?" said the bartender.

"Almost," said the old man. He stretched, his eyes weary. "Thank you, Anton. For the drink — and the chat. I didn't want my last day to end without seeing a friendly face."

Jenny blinked. "Sorry? Your… last day?!"

The two ignored her.

"You don't have to do this, Gavin," Anton said. He held out another drink, in a glass. "Stay here. Stay alive."

The old man shook his head. "I've seen it happen before, Anton," he said. "Ex-cops trying to fight their fate. Use their knowledge of the future to change it, delay their deaths. It's always worse, when you do that." He shrugged on his coat. "Besides. This isn't a bad way to go. My death, at least, will be for a good cause. I'll intervene. Try to stop a murder."

"A cop actually stopping a crime," Anton said. "Who would have thought it!"

Jenny couldn't quite believe she was hearing this. She grabbed up the old man by the shoulders, spun him around.

"You know the exact moment you're going to die?" she said. "You know _how_ you're going to die?"

"Every policeman knows how he'll die," the old man told her. He managed to twist himself out of her grip. Then stepped away, head held high. "And I welcome my fate. I embrace it." He waved, as he headed out of the bar. "Goodbye, Anton."

"Goodbye," said the barman.

But Jenny wasn't about to let this happen. Whatever this Gavin fellow was about to do, whatever was happening here — no one should have to die. Jenny wouldn't let anyone die!

The old man tried to dart down a side street, to lose Jenny, but she was too fast. Caught him up in no time.

"You're not supposed to be here," Gavin said. "I have to do this alone."

"Who wants to die alone?" Jenny replied, strolling alongside him, easily. "I just want to chat, before your 'moment of destiny' approaches. Find out a little more about this place."

"You're trying to stop me," said Gavin. He paused in his walk. Turned to her. "You can't, you know. This is fate. A death I gladly walk into."

"It's not about fate, it's about time!" Jenny insisted. "And I'm the expert on time! Whatever you know — there has to be a way around it."

Gavin looked at her, sadly.

Then shook his head. Turned away, resuming his walk. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand!" Jenny urged, racing after him, again. "Something happened here, a long time ago — something that plunged this planet into civil war, and allowed you and the other policemen to know the future. I'm the closest thing to a Time Lady there still is, Gavin! Whatever happened, I can help!"

Gavin turned the next corner.

And Jenny was relieved to find a whole group of police, encircling the area up ahead. Creating a blockade around the area.

Beyond that, Jenny could hear the echo of voices. One pleading. One unrelenting and merciless.

"See? The police are already here!" Jenny told Gavin. "They're dealing with it. Whatever's going on, you don't have to die!"

But Gavin didn't listen to her.

He walked over to the police, who all greeted him, warmly. Commending him for what he was going to do. And then letting him through.

Jenny couldn't believe she was seeing this.

She raced forwards, trying to drag Gavin away, but a policewoman and policeman grabbed her and twisted her around, managing to restrain her. The woman clamped a hand down over Jenny's mouth.

"You're going to ruin everything!" she hissed.

Which was when Jenny finally recognized the voices echoing from the impending crime scene. The pleading voice of Jack Harkness. And the cold, unrelenting voice — of Jenny's sister.

Saying, "I'm sorry. But I don't have a choice."

The sound of a gun cocking.

And it all crashed on top of Jenny. All at once. Just what Gavin was about to do. Who he'd throw himself in front of, to save. What he wouldn't know about Jack, that would make him think he was giving up his own life to help another.

Jenny struggled even harder, trying to shout.

But she was too late.

The shot resounded through the air.

Followed by Gavin's cry, Seo's horrified gasp, and the sound of the old man's body dropping to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

"That's the crime!" shouted one of the police, nearby. "Round them up!"

The police advanced as, with another scream from Seo, the gun went off three more times. Jack's grunt, as he fell to the ground — dead. Seo's yelp, as the police restrained her.

And the two policemen holding Jenny back finally let go.

"You idiots!" Jenny shouted, spinning on them. "You let Gavin die for nothing! You could have stopped _all_ of this, and instead you just—!"

"Typical," said the policewoman, with a scowl. "You intervene, and people rise up against you. You do nothing, and people rise up against you." She turned around, gun drawn. "You've seen the movie. You really want to live in a society where the police arrest people for future crimes before those crimes happen?"

The policeman at least had the decency to look guilty. "Look, you gotta believe that every person on the force would be overjoyed if we could step in and stop a crime. But… we can't. The best thing to do is to use our knowledge of the future to catch the criminals red-handed. Get them off the streets."

"But Gavin died for nothing!" shouted Jenny.

"Gavin died trying to prevent a murder," the policeman said. "He knew he wouldn't be able to save Mr. Harkness from Seo. But Gavin was happy to give up his own life trying to do so. It's a hero's death."

Jenny nearly screamed in frustration.

"You don't know who you're talking about!" Jenny insisted. She pointed at the area where the police were still rounding up Seo and securing the crime scene. "That wasn't what it looked like; the future you've seen was misleading! Gavin didn't save anything. He just gave up his life for some pointless…!"

The police dragged Seo into view, handcuffed and stumbling, surrounded on all sides by police pointing guns at her.

The moment Seo spotted Jenny, she began to struggle.

"No!" Seo shouted. "Not her! Anyone but her." She turned to the policeman nearest her. "Please. I'll confess to whatever you want, but don't turn me over to _her._ She's the investigator who's been pursuing me across this whole galactic sector. She knows me better than anyone! If she takes me to court, off this planet — I'm done for!"

She didn't have time to say anything else.

Before she was shoved into a police car, and driven off.

The remaining police all turned back to Jenny. Waiting for the moment she showed them an official ID, told them who she was, and explained to them how to handle this investigation.

Her sister had dropped the investigation right into Jenny's hands.

Clever Seo.

"Jenny Fisher, Galactic Intelligence," said Jenny, bringing a badge out of her pocket and flashing it at them. It was, of course, a badge she'd forged about three centuries from now, and in a different galaxy — but she was betting that these people had been isolated enough that they wouldn't be able to spot the difference. "And, yes. I've been tracking her down across this entire galactic sector. Trust me, this isn't a one-off event."

One of the policemen — one in a fancier uniform, a Police Chief, probably — grabbed Jenny's badge. Analyzing it.

"Now, I need to see the crime scene," Jenny insisted. "Get evidence. That's very important. You might all be eye-witnesses, but I think there's more to this than any of you know."

The police chief thought this over. Then handed Jenny back the badge.

"Could be genuine, could be a fake," he muttered. "We've got no way of checking, and I'm guessing you know that." He gave the matter some more thought. Then gestured at the policeman and policewoman who had restrained Jenny, earlier. "Officers Hopper, Peters. Take this investigator to the crime scene. I don't have time for this."

He turned back to his own police car.

And drove off.

Jenny turned to the policewoman and policeman, who both looked a little confused by this turn of events. Then decided she'd better execute some authority, so she stood up straight, and spun on her heels.

"You heard the man, Officer Peters, Officer Hopper," Jenny called back at them. "This crime scene won't analyze itself, you know."

The two scurried after Jenny.

And caught up with her, as she emerged. Squatting down to analyze the two shot bodies, lying dead on the pavement. The old man, Gavin, who'd thrown himself in front of the shot.

And Jack Harkness.

Shot two times. One bullet just grazed his arm. The second bullet had missed him entirely — embedded into the wall behind him. The last lucky shot… had gone right through Jack's head.

Jenny was surprised Seo had been able to hit him, at all. It had sounded, to Jenny, like her sister had gotten panicked.

"But why shoot _you_?" Jenny asked the body. "She liked you. Didn't matter if she knew you'd come back — she wouldn't have wanted to hurt her friends. Not unless there was a reason."

"Maybe they got into a fight?" the policeman guessed.

Jenny looked up. "Officer… Hopper, right?"

"Peters," the man said. He pointed at the woman. "She's Hopper."

The woman seemed less than enthusiastic about being there. She nudged Peters in the side, hissing, "We don't have time for this!"

"Hey, she's good-looking," Peters hissed back — probably in a whisper he thought Jenny couldn't hear. "I can _make_ time."

Hopper seemed a lot less enthusiastic.

Jenny reached out to touch the body of Jack Harkness. Then winced back, as she felt a stinging sensation in her head. She shuddered.

"That's not right," Jenny said. "He's… dead."

Hopper nodded, slowly. "Bravo, investigator."

"No, I mean he's actually dead!" Jenny insisted. "He's not coming back. I can _feel_ it. It's…" She shuddered, again. "You'd think it'd feel right. But it doesn't. It's wronger. Like… wrong piled on top of wrong."

She paused.

Realizing.

"Wrong enough to affect the vortex — throwing any passing time ships off-course," Jenny said.

Which explained why she'd wound up here.

But didn't explain why Jack wasn't coming back. Or why Jack's being dead felt wronger than his being alive and a fixed point. Or why Seo had shot him in the first place.

"Time ship?" Peters asked.

Jenny stood up, turning to face them both. "I was right — there's more to this murder than first appeared," she said. She gestured at the body of Jack Harkness. "He's Seo's friend. But she shot him. Also, he's immortal. But he's not coming back." She gestured at Gavin's body. "Gavin knew he'd die taking the bullet for Jack — but didn't know about Jack's immortality. Almost like someone was trying to deliberately mislead him." She paused. Thinking it all through. "And Seo herself — she sounded completely in-control, when she was threatening Jack. But then, she panicked."

And Seo didn't tend to panic by firing guns randomly. Especially not when crowds of people were closing in on her.

"When we first showed up, Harkness was on his knees," Hopper explained. She walked some ways away. "The perp — Seo — was standing here. Gun pointed at the vic."

"Ignoring him," Jenny muttered, "while he was pleading for his life."

Which also didn't feel right.

But, of course, there was also the most obvious wrong thing.

"Even if Seo _did _want to kill Jack, for some reason — why use a gun?" Jenny asked. "She's not a good shot. She was lucky to hit Jack at all. If she actually wanted to kill him, she'd have used a battle-axe… or even hand-to-hand combat."

"A serial killer suddenly changing tactics," Peters mused. "Must be for a good reason. Something unexpected?"

"If she's not in the habit of killing her friends," Hopper pointed out, "then I'd say this whole situation was pretty unexpected for her." Shrugged. "Still. It doesn't matter. We were all there during the crime — we all saw her do it. The case is closed."

"You were all there," Jenny muttered. Looking at Hopper, curiously. "Yes. And — knowing her — she must have known that. She must have had a plan. One that got thrown for a loop when Gavin intervened."

"Great! Fine!" said Hopper, turning away. "She screwed up. Case closed. Now let's head out of here and just stop thinking about this."

Jenny grabbed a few bits of evidence, tucking them away for later analysis.

Then turned back to the two police officers. "I've learned what I can, here, anyways," she said, heading off after Hopper. "I think it's time I found out… just how you policemen seem to know the future."

Hopper stopped. Turned. Stared.

Peters, from behind her, blinked at her. Incredulous.

"You mean you haven't seen the movie?!" they both shouted, at once.


	4. Chapter 4

"…only the greatest movie of all time," Peters was explaining, as they drove back. "Basically made Emma Farndale's career. Damn, could that woman act!" The car turned left, as — outside — it began to rain. "Farndale's part-human, you know. Born on Earth — true story!"

"I bet you've got Farndale pinups all over your bedroom," Hopper muttered.

"Hey, I'm a young guy," Peters pointed out, with a shrug. "I've not had a chance to watch a lot of movies. But Zillwell's movies — I've seen them all." He leaned back. "Saw Zillwell's _Minority Report_ in real time. Really! Best two hours I ever wasted."

Jenny had never been a movie person.

Footage and facts and documentaries — those she'd seen lots of. But actual in-studio movies, the kind with plot and fiction and story? Not her style at all.

After all. What was the use in watching a movie, when you had a time machine? Could go off and have adventures yourself, instead of watching other people have them!

So… no.

Jenny had no idea what Hopper or Peters were talking about.

"So… this Christopher Zillwell bloke made a movie," Jenny said. "called… _Minority Report_. And it has to do with this situation… how, exactly?"

"Just look around us," said Hopper, gesturing at their run-down city and the armed beggars running through shadows. "Civil war. Societal collapse. War, ruin, desolation, paranoia and insanity everywhere you look. And it's all thanks to that movie." She paused. Then, with a smile, "Still a great movie, though."

"The best!" Peters agreed.

Jenny stared at them. "A movie did all that? How?!"

The car pulled into the station.

"Because it inspired what came next," Peters said. "That's what destroyed our world."

"We better show her," Hoppers said.

And opened the door.

* * *

On the second floor, policemen were rushing around, too absorbed in their own work to care what Jenny, Peters, and Hopper were doing.

Peters entered a security code into the lock on a steel door to their right, and waited as it whirred softly, then opened with a click.

"In here lies the answer to all your questions," Peters announced, ushering Jenny in.

Jenny stepped into the small, nearly empty room. There were computer banks all around, readouts and interfaces lining the walls and hovering in the air. And no people besides themselves.

But it was obvious that the main attraction was the object that lay just behind an unbreakable, translucent panel in one of the walls.

Jenny stepped forwards, examining it.

"The Zillwell Machine," Hopper sighed. She put her hands into her pockets. "The most dangerous machine on this planet."

"And the reason that the police know the future," Peters agreed. He shut the door behind them, and grinned at Jenny. "Like I said. The answer to your questions."

"Zillwell," Jenny repeated. "Named after Christopher Zillwell's _Minority Report_?"

"Yeah, that's what it looked like in the movie," Peters said. "Except without that white… dome thing on the top."

Jenny tilted her head, analyzing it, carefully.

It was obviously modeled on a theater prop — she could tell that by the sleek elegance of the design, the blue lights that served no purpose except to make it look "cool", the elaborate paint job, and the random contours and curves that seemed just stuck on without practical application.

But there was definitely real machinery in there, too. Machinery that was actually doing something, whirring and clicking and computing away without a care in the world.

Most of the machinery was obscured by the blank white dome that covered the whole top half of the machine.

"What is it?" Jenny muttered.

Alien, she assumed — since, after all, no human device from this time period would be able to project the future the way Hopper and Peters had been explaining.

"The Zillwell Machine predicts future crimes, and the prediction comes from there into this room," Peters explained, waving at the empty room around them. "We get it on all the monitors — which allows us to see the future crime before it happens. We get enough data that we know where and when it'll be, then race off to where it's gonna happen."

"And don't stop it," Hopper muttered. She crossed her arms, and huffed. "Trust me, every cop's really thrilled about that."

"But we do catch the criminals red-handed," said Peters. "Get them off the street."

Jenny tried looking from different angles, to see under the dome. Then shook her head, with a sigh. "It's no good," Jenny said. "I'm gonna need to look at the Zillwell machine in person."

Noticing a small door leading to the isolated room, at the far corner, Jenny launched herself forwards.

But was snatched back by a horrified Hopper.

"You… can't go in there!" Hopper cried. "The machine's isolated for a reason."

"Yeah — everyone who goes near it dies," Peters agreed. "Legend has it that the machine was actually invented at MIT. But the moment it got switched on, everyone on campus crumbled away into dust!"

Jenny sighed.

And stepped back.

"A temporal radiation leak, maybe?" Jenny muttered. "Or a channel into the vortex? Mass aging and decomposition in a single second… nasty way to go."

She paused.

Then turned to Hopper and Peters.

"So… explain to me why, exactly, you can see future crimes," said Jenny, "but can't stop them?"

"Because this thing looks like the prop from the movie," Hopper said. Shook her head. "And everyone's seen the movie."

"Everyone's seen what happens, in that movie, when the police arrest people for future crimes," Peters agreed. "Everyone remembers that scene where Farndale talks about the inverse probability ratio."

Inverse… huh?

"Look — do either of you want to tell me, in plain, straight-forward English, what this movie's actually about?" Jenny demanded of them. "And why this machine destroyed your world?"

Hopper and Peters exchanged another look.

Shrugged.

"Fair enough," said Peters. "_Minority Report_ originally started as a science fiction story, written in the 20th century."

"The story was about a group of scientists who built a machine that could foresee violent crimes before they happened," said Hoppers. "In the story, the police used it to arrest the criminals before the crime happened in the first place. Which lead to all kinds of problems."

"In the 21st century, the story was made into a movie," Peters continued, "but it wasn't anything special. Hollywood blockbuster. A century later, and everyone kind of forgot about it." He grinned. "Except, of course, for Christopher Zillwell."

Zillwell.

That name, again.

"Zillwell loved watching old movies," said Peters. "So when the Electromagnetic Storm of 3269 hit, and all the old movies and records got wiped out — Zillwell decided to remake his favorites."

Jenny's eyes shifted back to the machine. "Including… _Minority Report_."

"Zillwell's _Minority Report _— one of the most classic movies of all time," Peters agreed. "It's won every movie award there is. Just as popular now as the day it came out. _Everyone's _seen it."

"Then one day, some idiot decided it'd be a great idea to build the machine from the movie — one that could actually tell the future," Hopper said. Rolled her eyes. "The Zillwell Machine was born. And this world… ended."

"Because everyone had seen the movie," Jenny realized. "Everyone knew what it was. And what could happen in a society where police used their ability to stop future crimes to their advantage."

Yes.

This was all starting to make sense, now.

"There must have been an uproar when you police first started using it," Jenny said. "After all, you'd arrest someone for a crime they were now no longer able to commit. It would have seemed like you were arresting them for nothing. The whole thing would have gone to court — been deemed unlawful — and meant that you police had to wait for the crime to be committed before you actually arrested anyone."

"That was how it _started_," Hopper said.

"Yeah — the big public court case meant that other countries on this world knew we had this machine," Peters said. "Those countries knew what just _owning _this machine could do. So there was a big civil war. Chaos and anarchy and complete societal collapse. And now… here we are."

"Picking up the pieces," said Hopper.

Jenny frowned.

That sounded… weird. Not quite right.

Just like everything else on this world, since she first arrived here. Just like what she'd seen, before, with Seo and Jack.

"Anyone still sane quarantined this planet off from the outside universe — so no one off-world would ever even find out about the Zillwell Machine," Hopper concluded. "We stopped the insanity, here. Figured… everyone else just thought this was a dead world infected with a horrible disease or something."

"I heard a few investigators showed up, way back," said Peters. "But they all died when they got too close to the machine. Since then… we've just been doing our best and trying to restore law and order."

Jenny nodded, slowly.

Walked to the transparent panel, her eyes fixed on the machine.

For a long while, saying nothing.

Then, in a low voice, "What happened to Gavin really bothered both of you, didn't it? You police still follow the rules of the society that fell apart… but you all hate it. You _want _to intervene."

"We… don't have a choice," Hopper said. "Have you seen the streets out there? Chaos and insanity all over! Bodies in the streets! If we abandon law and order — even _that _one — it means we've become no better than them."

"Besides, it'd feed the insanity," said Peters. "My dad told me it had been tried before, way back. And failed."

Jenny paused.

"Chaos and insanity all over," Jenny repeated. "Violence everywhere you look." She spun around, eyes taking in all the monitors spewing data non-stop. "There's more crime around here than you can possibly handle — but you say the police still try their best. So… if this is the center of your whole police strategy… _where is everyone_?"

Hopper and Peters looked a little confused and uneasy.

Like Jenny had just brought up something neither of them had realized, before… and they weren't sure why they had overlooked it.

"It's just the three of us in this room, right now!" Jenny said, gesturing at the space around them. "What? Did your police just decide they'd done their sitting-around-not-stopping-crime for the day, and go home?"

"That's not fair," Hopper snapped.

"We do our best!" Peters agreed. "Just look at Gavin! He sacrificed himself."

Jenny paused.

Thinking hard about this. About everything she'd been told.

"I think I'd better talk to Seo… the perp," Jenny decided. "Then — I need to watch your movie."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I should write this movie. I actually think it's a pretty good plot.

* * *

Jenny stared, in horror, as she watched her sister lying comatose on a hospital bed. Anyone treating her wearing hazmat suits, and treading carefully.

Jenny wasn't even allowed close.

"We don't know what's wrong," one of the doctors reported, emerging from the quarantine zone. "She just… collapsed, shortly after we took her in. Some kind of coma, except we can't tell…" The doctor faltered. Then, admitted, "Investigator. If you know what species she is, that might help."

"Machines don't pick her up, and she's got two heartbeats?" Jenny guessed.

The doctor nodded.

"I know the species," Jenny said, turning back to the glass, to look at the comatose form inside. "You won't have heard of it." She looked on, for a few long moments. Realizing that the only person who'd known the truth was now unavailable. "I've got to go in there. Analyze her physiology myself."

"Investigator," Peters cut in, "if they say it's not safe… then it's not safe. You have to trust me."

Jenny yanked at the nearest hazmat suit. "A man who can't die is dead," she said, slipping into it, quickly as she could, "and the person who shot him has now lapsed into a coma." She zipped up the suit, and put on the helmet. "Oh, yeah. I definitely believe it's dangerous. There's no doubting that."

Then she stepped inside.

Heading over to her sister, checking her, carefully.

"Heart-rate's slowed, again," said one of the doctors, using an old-fashioned stethoscope to measure it. "How long before we declare her brain-dead, and take her off life-support?"

"She's not brain-dead," Jenny insisted, trying to brush the others away. "She's putting herself into a healing coma. It's something her species can do." She knelt down. Checking Seo's vital signs. "Although healing from what is a good question. I don't see see any indication of—"

Jenny yanked her hands away, as the psychic message blazed through her.

_DANGER. STAY AWAY. MORE THAN ONE._

Jenny stepped back. Frowning.

Then turned, and left the quarantine area. Did as her sister advised.

Seo must have known something. She must have had a plan — one that fell through, thanks to Gavin and the Zillwell Machine.

And if Gavin had retired that long ago…

Then Seo's plans had been foiled before she'd ever shown up here in the first place.

The best thing that Jenny could do for her sister, now, was to solve this mystery. Get to the bottom of the whole thing. And figure out what was really going on.

Time to watch that movie.

Find out what the Zillwell Machine could actually do. What people thought it could do. And what was really going on.

* * *

"Welcome to the movie library," said the electronic voice from the vending machine. "Please select the movie you wish to see."

It displayed the options out, in front of her.

Jenny pushed on the option for Christopher Zillwell's _Minority Report_.

"You have selected a classic movie," the vending machine chirruped. "Please be advised that classic movies were not originally intended for the viewing formats available. Full Sensory Recall for this movie may be purchased for an additional 500 credits."

The display options whizzed up in front of Jenny.

_Dreamscape viewing._

_Concentrated packet download._

_Memory alteration insertion._

_Hallucinogenic projection._

Jenny made a face. Suddenly realizing that this machine was vending movies in pill format, not vending movies in any format she'd actually want to watch.

"Don't use those options," came Peters' voice.

Jenny looked up, to discover him right behind her, canceling out her selection on the machine.

"Zillwell wrote it, directed it, and shot it for Standard 3D Surround," said Peters. "It was archaic, even then, but everyone thought the movie would be kind of blah, so they didn't give him the budget to shoot the film in anything better. They've been trying to upgrade it ever since." Peters shrugged. "Watching it in these other formats… you just lose something. You know?"

"Hence the extra 500 credits for Full Sensory Recall," Jenny muttered.

"And if you pay those 500 credits," said Peters, "all you get is a book that explains what happened in the movie. Total rip-off." He grinned. Then, in a lower voice, whispered, "But _I've_ got the Standard 3D Surround version."

Jenny spun around to face him.

"And… yes," Peters said. "I'm giving up two whole hours of my life for you. And just you." Peters held out a hand to her. "So. Do we have a date, Miss Fisher?"

"Jenny," Jenny corrected.

Peters seemed intrigued. Grinned. "First names already? Be still, my heart." He grinned even wider. "I'm Harmont."

Jenny returned the smile. And took his hand in hers. "In which case, Harmont, yes. I think we do have a date."

* * *

Harmont Peters' flat was more like a broken-down hovel. Buried in the middle of the rest of the ruins of the city, with no obvious signs to show that _this_ building had parts of it inhabited.

"Safer that way," said Peters, as he settled down. "You never know who'll show up in the middle of the night. Especially if you're working as a cop."

They started the movie.

_Minority Report_. Written, directed, and starring Christopher Zillwell.

But as the movie began, Jenny was shocked to discover that it wasn't a science fiction film, at all. No. This one was set in the past.

"The Irwop Colony!" Jenny cried. "During the Artonian Occupation." She glanced over at Peters. "I thought you said this was a science fiction movie! The Artonian Occupation — that _actually happened_. There were no future-detecting devices on Irwop!"

Peters sighed, and paused the movie.

"The original _Minority Report_ movie was about the future," Peters explained, a little exasperated that he was already stopping the movie, before they'd even started it. "The year 2054. But Zillwell watched it in the 33rd century. For Zillwell, that movie had always been set in the past."

Jenny frowned.

"Just watch and see!" Peters said, restarting the movie. "Trust me. It'll make sense."

The movie followed the main character, a human being on the Irwop Colony named Arthur Limsor. As was the case with everyone in that colony, Arthur Limsor believed he was a free man, part of an Earth colony, and with a democratically elected government.

But his colony had been dragged into an unprovoked war with the Civlaxians, which had shut down all communications with Earth.

"I know the Civlaxians," Jenny said. "I've been to their world. I saw what the transmat bombs did to their cities. That war wasn't their fault. I helped to end it."

"Sh!" Peters said. "Just watch the movie!"

The movie showed the transmat bombs, too. It also showed how the Artonians had helped the humans on Irwop, by presenting the human race with a machine — that could foresee violent events in the future.

Including the teleportation of transmat bombs.

"That's wildly inaccurate!" Jenny insisted. "The Artonians didn't have temporal technology!"

And she listened, irritated, to the ridiculous techno-babble about how the Artonians could detect the bombs ahead of time, because they were so violent that they left a visible scar on the fabric of space-time.

Which was just not how time worked!

Not at all!

"There are things that put a scar on space-time," Jenny explained, "but not transmat bombs. The temporal theory in this movie is appalling! 'Predicting the future makes it less likely to happen', they say. If I've seen my own future, live through the consequences, and then go back in time and stop it from coming into being… that could be catastrophic! Seeing the future basically sets it in stone, far as I understand. And…"

Jenny suddenly spun around, pointing at the image in the movie just out of the corner of her eye.

"There!" Jenny shouted. "That Cavlaxian character. She's been skulking around in the shadows this whole movie!"

"That's actress Emma Farndale," Peters agreed. "And she's about to answer all your questions."

Sure enough.

When the character Xera Wooy, played by actress Emma Farndale, appeared, she contacted Limsor. At first, he didn't listen to her, accusing her of being a spy. But eventually, she made him understand.

Brought him to the base, where the Artonian Machine to tell the future was kept.

And had him look inside.

Aurthur Limsor stared. His body shadowed by complex-looking machinery, surrounding the essence of the machine inside — the machine he had just uncovered. As if, looking at him, Limsor had _become_ part of the machinery, his arms and legs no different from the complex wires and electrical cabling creeping out of the walls.

Connected to the core of the machine.

And that core… was empty.

"Empty?!" Jenny cried.

"Empty," Peters agreed.

In the movie, the two main characters were shocked, as well.

"Those bombs were directed at Artonian military targets," Xera said. "We couldn't figure out why they weren't getting there! They sent me through the transmat, disguised my signature so I looked like a bomb — to figure out where the bombs were being sent."

Jenny, outside the movie, figured it out. "The Artonians redirected the bombs!" she cried. "Oh, that's clever. They couldn't diffuse the bombs, so they sent them to transmats on the Irwop Colony."

She'd never known precisely how human colonists had wound up in that war.

"That _is_ historically accurate, by the way," said Peters. "The bombs. The transmats. The redirection. Even these two characters actually existed — although not much is known about them." As the characters in the movie figured out what Jenny had already deduced. "This next part is also accurate."

Jenny watched, as — in the movie — Limsor spun on Xera.

Angry and betrayed by the world that had lied to him.

"They can see the future!" Limsor insisted. "The spies they caught! The crimes they stopped! The criminals they swept off our streets before they could commit their acts of—"

The discussion was cut off, though, as they were detected in the room with the machinery. The Artonians began chasing them, as Limsor and Xera ran for their lives.

Xera shouting back at Limsor, "If they can see the future, why didn't they foresee _us_?!"

Turned out, the Artonians had no way of seeing the future. But had instilled fear and paranoia in the majority of the human population on Irwop, coercing people to spy on and report their neighbors for anything suspicious.

Disappearances were dismissed as the arrest of future criminals.

And fear ruled on the streets.

"A free world, you said, Arthur," Xera said. She gestured at the world around her. At the world with its curfews, its fear, its resistance clusters and its disappearances. "Is this freedom?"

"The Artonians won't invade," Arthur Limsor insisted. "They haven't the firepower to—"

"It's already happened," Xera cut in. "You've already lost."

Jenny turned off the movie.

Stood, in the center of the room, pacing. Trying to think this all through. Figure out how all the pieces fit together, so her current mystery could possibly make sense.

"But we hadn't even gotten to the climax, yet!" Peters insisted. "Where Emma Farndale—"

"The machine in the movie didn't work," Jenny interrupted. "It wasn't even real. It was just… being used to mask the fear and propaganda of that society! But _your _machine works."

"Yeah," said Peters. He put down the movie controls. "We said that. Some people believe us. Most don't. Lots of people think we're just making it up, to scare them. Local governments went to war because they knew that, if they had the machine, they could claim that their enemies planted it on them. Give them an excuse to invade."

"But it _works_," Jenny reiterated. "To a certain extent. Even if it doesn't tell the future… it's altering something having to do with time. I can feel it. I can feel…!"

Jenny stopped.

Staring at the kitchen area, realizing there was something very obvious she was overlooking. Something very obvious she'd missed.

"You still have food," Jenny said.

Peters looked a little ashamed. "Sorry, I… forgot to offer you some. What would you like?"

Jenny spun him around. "Your world has collapsed," she said. "You've got no farmers. No support from anyone else. Violent crime going on everywhere! But no crime over _food_."

"Of course not."

"But that's what happens when a society falls apart!" Jenny insisted. "First you raid the tinned food. And when that runs out, people start killing each other to get food. Fresh water! But you…"

She spun around, raced to the kitchen area.

Flung open the drawers.

"Tinned food!" she said. "You're still on the tinned food phase. This city hasn't been ruined for a century — or all this food would have been gone and rotten, by now." She turned on Peters. "You lot don't have a progenation machine, right? Generations gone through in a day or less?"

"A… what machine?" said Peters. He shook his head. "We don't go through generations in a day. That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Jenny took out one of the tins, and plonked it down on the counter. "This tin's dated five years ago. Not a hundred. Just five." She shook it at him. "This world ended five years ago! When you were still alive!"

"I wasn't!" Peters insisted. "Five years? I'm a human being, Jenny. Not… immortal!"

Jenny paused.

Staring at him.

Recalling… how busy everyone seemed. Just how big a deal it was for Peters to take two hours out of his life to watch a movie. How everyone seemed to feel there wasn't time to do basic things like background checks or investigations.

This planet was placed under quarantine.

Maybe… there'd been another reason, besides the machine. Maybe something else had happened.

"Harmont Peters," Jenny whispered. "How… old are you?"

"Three months," said Peters.

"And… how long do you expect to live?" Jenny asked.

"I've still got another eight left in me," Peters assured her. "Not old and retired, yet! Even if policemen always do die a month or two younger than most." He grinned. Then, noticing she wasn't grinning, let the grin slide off his face. "What?"

"You're human," Jenny reiterated. "But you live… a year. Just a year."

"Yeah, of course," said Peters. "Doesn't everyone?"

Jenny shook her head. "No!" she cried. "Humans generally last about a century! Unless there's a war and a progenation machine hanging about, this sort of thing shouldn't happen! Not at…"

She drifted off.

Then turned, frustrated, towards the door.

"You're right," Jenny said. "We don't have time. Not for any of this." She yanked it open. "Gavin said this whole mess was started by some university student. Right?"

Peters nodded.

"Then you'd better show me where that student built the Zillwell machine," said Jenny. "Because it's _nothing_ like the one in the movie."


	6. Chapter 6

Jenny arrived at the ruins of the MIT extension campus. Peters in tow, as she carefully picked her way across the swaying and unstable structure of the abandoned labs, and towards the decrepit and worn-down lab that Peters pointed out to her.

"It's become kind of famous," said Peters. "The lab that built the Zillwell machine." He caught her just before she stepped on a rotted floor-board. "Mind your step."

Jenny did.

Cautiously and carefully entered the lab.

Most of the machinery had been looted and gutted. Most of the rest of it was just decaying and falling apart — like the rest of the building. As if it really _had_ been abandoned for hundreds of years.

But the writing and equations scribbled across windows and walls… was still there. Still legible.

Jenny stepped towards it.

Studying the equations.

"Lab that killed our world," Peters said. He kicked one of the decaying bits of lab machinery, hard, and it clattered against the ground and fell apart. The building creaked and protested around them. "Damn know-it-alls. Always knew MIT would end the world."

"MIT didn't."

Peters looked up at Jenny, who'd abandoned the equations, and was now hurrying — fast as she could pick her way across the room — to the other side of the lab.

"I should have worked it out, earlier!" Jenny chided herself. "Everything here's wrecked and ruined. Except…" She raised up a small dome. "…this!"

Peters looked at it, impassively.

A dome which looked just like the one draped over the top of the Zillwell Machine, back at the police station.

Peters shrugged. "So it's… a Zillwell machine prototype or something," he guessed. "Before they built—"

"Think about it!" Jenny cried, jumping towards him and shoving the dome into his hands. "Everything else around here has been decayed and destroyed. Its life span greatly decreased — just like yours! _Except_ this!"

Peters frowned.

She was right.

"But what does that…?" Peters tried.

"It means," Jenny told him, "that MIT _didn't_ destroy your world. MIT tried to _save _it!"

"Huh?"

"That story you told me, earlier," said Jenny, "about how your world ended — I thought it was a story about hysterical people shocked that you could predict the future, and protesting against that technology. But the machine in the movie didn't work — and no one thought _yours_ worked, either." She looked straight at Peters. "Did they?"

"No," Peters agreed.

"They thought you were just arresting people at random for to make some political point," Jenny continued. "Which is why the whole world fell apart. Everyone thought it was fake."

"Yeah, of course," Peters said.

"Everyone… _except_ MIT," Jenny corrected. She gestured at the equations. "The people _here _realized there was a powerful force inside the Zillwell Machine — and used equations to work out what it was, and how the Zillwell Machine actually functioned. Then they created a special kind of material that could contain the force… before the machine had a chance to age everything and everyone on this whole planet to death in a matter of seconds."

Jenny paused.

Her face bending into intense concentration, as she thought of something else.

"MIT still destroyed the world, though," Peters insisted. "I mean, maybe they did realize their mistake, later, and to try to fix it. But that doesn't mean—"

"Material Sciences," Jenny cut in. "This is a material sciences lab."

Peters looked around himself.

Shrugged.

The building gave another groan and shudder.

"Material Sciences and Spacio-Temporal Engineering were on this planet," Peters confirmed. "The extension campus. Everyone knows that."

Jenny gave him a sidelong look.

And Peters knew… he was missing something obvious.

"What…?" Peters began.

"You really never thought of the obvious question?" Jenny placed her hands on her hips. "That Zillwell machine is supposed to be some temporal novelty. If it _were_ an MIT invention — why was it built on _this _planet? And not by the temporal physics department, back on Earth?"

Peters had to admit — he hadn't thought of that.

"You're not very intelligent for a homicide detective, are you?" Jenny sighed, heading over to him. "No wonder there's so much crime around, if…"

Beneath Jenny's feet, the floor groaned and then snapped. She cried out, as she started to tumble — but was caught by a lunge and grab from Peters.

Who hoisted her back up.

"Still got my good-side, though," Peters reminded her, with a wink. "Saving the damsel in distress." Gestured at the floor. "Watching your steps, and…"

He paused.

Knelt down, squinting at the dust. "Funny. More footprints. Fresh — and not made by us. I didn't notice that, before."

"Good to see you finally using your brain," Jenny muttered. Still, might not be Peters' fault — maybe the Zillwell Machine had made everyone's jobs so easy, all the cops had gotten stupid and lazy about things. And — if she just got them to _think_ a little — they could get back to being the effective crime-fighting force they'd once been.

Or not.

"They look kind of like that Seo-person's footprints," Peters said. His eyes falling on the far computer bank. "And they lead… right to that machine."

Jenny grinned, then grabbed up bits of old machinery and headed to the computer bank. Wiring the spare parts back in, to create a portable generator or something that'd make the computer work, again.

"It's one of those graphene interface devices — I love those," Jenny said, as she finished her work. "They might short out or have parts of them burn through, but they're always recoverable." She grinned, as the whole system flickered back online. Stood up, brushing dust off her trousers, and set to work at the interface. "Like I thought. Last thing on the screen is what Seo found, in their systems. A vital clue."

"As to why Seo murdered her friend?" Peters asked. "You said you were surprised about that."

"No, not that — a clue about what's really going on here," said Jenny. She shoved the graphene display at Peters, letting it drift through the air on its anti-grav suspension.

Peters caught it.

Found himself staring at an article entitled, "Plagiarist expelled from MIT."

"Aldor Caveer," Jenny said, as Peters read through the article. "Found plagiarizing designs from others, and fabricating the results of his experiments to make them show what he wanted. He claims he only did it because he was focused on his _real _work — creating something that would make him the 'Zillwell of Science'."

Peters glanced up at Jenny.

And it was obvious — they were both thinking the same thing.

"_This _is the person who created the Zillwell machine," Peters said. "Someone _expelled _from MIT."

"Someone who liked to steal technology and designs from others," Jenny added, "and then doctor the experimental results to make it seem like his invention was working perfectly."

Peters shook his head. "But the Zillwell machine _does_ work!" he insisted. "It tells the future. It can prevent murders. We've got first-hand evidence of that!"

"With a hundred percent accuracy?" Jenny grabbed her gun out of her back pocket, and pointed it squarely at Peters. "Did it see me killing you?"

Peters raised his hands, eyes wide with surprise and fear. "Jenny… what are you…?!"

Jenny pulled the trigger.

Peters squeezed his eyes shut.

Nothing happened.

"You're frightened." Jenny lowered the gun. "You really thought you were gonna die." She showed him the gun. "Not loaded. You should have known that."

Peters breathed a sigh of relief.

"My point is," Jenny said, "if you really _could_ predict the future with complete accuracy… if you _could_ see any murder before it happened… you cops wouldn't be frightened when I pulled a gun on you. Because you'd know, for a fact, that I wouldn't kill anyone — because if I was going to, you'd have foreseen it."

Peters lowered his hands, slowly. "But… in the Zillwell movie, they said time, when predicted, became infinitely variable—"

"It's a movie, Peters!" Jenny insisted. "A movie created by a director who didn't know the first thing about temporal physics or the Laws of Time. All the science in that movie is nonsense — even the movie, itself, admits that!"

She paused.

Then sighed, as she began pacing the room.

"No, that Zillwell machine you have isn't a temporal predictor," said Jenny. "Nor is it just an empty bit of kit designed to scare the population into spying on their neighbors." She paused, her eyes lingering on the equations scribbled onto the glass walls. "No. It's as if… time's been accelerated on this planet. Humans living through their entire life-span in only a year. Buildings crumbling and falling apart almost before your eyes!" She gestured at the area around her. "And MIT got hit the worst."

"But why or how would someone from the Material Sciences department be able to make something like that?" said Peters.

"Well, he didn't," Jenny replied, stepping towards the equations. Her finger tracing below each in turn, looking them over more carefully. "That's why he mucked up his temporal predictor. Your world didn't fall apart because of civil war, Peters — I think this machine of yours caused a global disaster. And it was only _afterwards_ that you…"

She trailed off.

Frowning.

"No, that doesn't make sense," Jenny said, tapping her finger under one equation. "That molecular structure for the dome we found — _that's_ not a temporal dampener. It couldn't have been used to stop the Zillwell machine."

"You said it did!"

"I know, but… look at it!" said Jenny. "The way it's made! That dome wasn't designed to contain time winds or an intrusion from the vortex, or…"

She trailed off, again.

Her face suddenly growing terrified.

"Unless… _that's_ why the machine seems to work," Jenny breathed. "And why Jack was…"

As if in response to Jenny's revelation, the building shook. Structure groaning and creaking around them.

Jenny's eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "And that confirms it."

"What…?" Peters started.

The roof sagged, and Jenny just barely had time to push them both out of the way before it collapsed around them. "We've got to get out of here," said Jenny. "They know I know. They're going to try to rip this place apart — with us still inside."

"Who are?" Peters demanded. "What are you…?"

The floor creaked, then shattered into splinters. Both Jenny and Peters tumbling a full story down, as the whole building started to collapse.


	7. Chapter 7

The floor creaked, then shattered into splinters. Both Jenny and Peters tumbling a full story down, as the whole building started to collapse.

The machinery tumbling through around them. Breaking apart as it hit the ground, and making this level's floor-boards sag, threatening collapse.

"Never mind," Peters decided, grabbing Jenny by the arm. "Let's just get out and worry about the details, later."

Jenny shoved him away. "No! It's gotta be here, somewhere! I can't leave it…!" She threw herself at the bits of machinery and lab equipment that had crashed through the floor, frantically searching for something.

The ceiling buckled, and several heavy pieces thunked down around them.

"Jenny, we don't have time for this!" Peters shouted.

Jenny threw three items behind her, then gave a victorious shout. "Here! Got it!" She swooped the object up in her arms — the white dome from the lab. And spun on her heels, racing back to Peters and thrusting it into his hands. "Hold this!"

"Can we get out of here, now?" Peters demanded.

Jenny beamed. "Run? Oh, yes!" Rushed past him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind. "We'll definitely be running!"

Ran fast as they could, considering.

The building shaking and rumbling around them, their eyes constantly darting across the ground to look for broken floor-boards, barely outrunning the collapse as they went.

"It was so stupid of me not to think of it, earlier," said Jenny. "The dome! Of course! After all — you lot had known Seo and Jack by name, even before Seo shot anyone. So they must have already been on your radar."

A piece of masonry crashed to their right, and they jumped out of the way.

"They broke into the police station, a little earlier," said Peters, panting with the exertion. "Entered that room with the Zillwell Machine. Tried to sabotage it. Apparently, they failed."

"Entered a room that should have killed anyone who entered it?" Jenny asked.

Peters frowned.

Trying to think this through. How… could that be possible?

"I think Seo figured something out," Jenny told Peters, as the door to the outside finally crept into sight, ahead of them. "Something not even the MIT Professors could figure out. After all — those professors might have been brilliant, but recognizing something from thousands of years in the past and halfway across the universe was probably a bit beyond them."

Peters, still lugging around that dome, desperately struggled to keep up with her — both mentally and physically. He was starting to feel old… and he was pretty sure that wasn't due for months, yet. "What…?"

They burst out the door.

And the whole building collapsed.

Jenny and Peters threw themselves against the pavement, hands over their heads to protect themselves from the flying debris.

They coughed, as the dust settled.

"I said there was something powerful in that Zillwell Machine," Jenny choked out, between coughs. She sat up and reached for Peters, struggling to see him through the lingering dust. "Something very powerful. Powerful enough to create rapid, accelerated local aging."

The dust cleared.

And Jenny found herself staring at Peters. A shiver running through her.

"In the building," Jenny said, her voice very low, "and… in you. Harmont."

Harmont shook his head. "What… are you…?"

He didn't sound like himself, though. He sounded… weird. Old.

"I'm sorry," Jenny told him, fishing a mirror out of her pocket and handing it to him. "I… made you think. That's what the Poilarin target. Mental stimulation."

Peters took the mirror.

Stared into it for a long time. At his wrinkled skin. His gray hair. A beard growing, where he'd once been clean-shaven.

"It's why MIT was struck first," Jenny said, softly, "and why most of the death and devastation was centralized around this area. The Poilarin have destroyed your whole world — changed your life expectancy, collapsed your society, destroyed the best and brightest of you. That's why most of the people left, on this planet, are mindless street urchins who kill each other without a second thought. And — you police, of course. The ones guarding the Zillwell Machine. Because the Poilarin _need _the Zillwell machine."

"What… what… happened to me?" said Peters. Touching his own face. "This can't be real. It can't be happening."

"No, it can't," Jenny agreed. "Time's gone wrong on this planet. Very wrong. None of this should ever have happened — I can _feel_ it."

Peters closed his eyes.

Taking long, deep breaths. Trying to accept what he couldn't possibly accept.

His other hand tightened around the white dome Jenny had handed him, earlier. Gripping it as if that would help him get a grip on the image in the mirror.

"Poilarin," Peters said, dully. "What… are…?"

"Aliens that feed on brain activity," Jenny explained, "and excrete time distortion — that can age you to death in seconds."

"Age… to death…" Peters repeated.

"But they're not from this time and place," Jenny insisted. "I last met the Poilarin halfway across the universe, and thousands of years in the past. They'd been spreading themselves through the southern tip of the Irkoli galaxy — feasting on anyone trying to revive examples of Empire technology. It was… horrible. You can't imagine."

Peters looked up at her. "I can."

"No, you can't…" Jenny shook her head, not sure how to portray the full horror of it. "A million years ago, the Irkoli galaxy underwent a huge catastrophe. Most of its life-supporting planets were destroyed, and many others made uninhabitable. The galaxy's population is small enough as it is — they didn't need the Poilarin killing them off, too."

"What did they do?"

"Quarantined that whole section of the galaxy," Jenny said. "Just… let the Poilarin eat everyone on those worlds… then starve to death." She sighed. "I showed up right when one of the creatures escaped the quarantine. Wound up tracking it down and then trapping it, so I could stick it back in the quarantine zone. The Poilarin aren't used to people outsmarting them."

"You weren't infected?" Peters asked.

"No — I wouldn't be," Jenny said. "My brain is… different. Really strong defenses. A lot of creatures have trouble invading it." She paused. Then, getting back to her feet, "Although… if Seo had to drop into a coma to stop them taking over _her_ mind… the immunity must only apply to full-blood Gallifreyans. Not part-Gallifreyan, part-humans, like her."

She helped Peters to his feet.

He handed her back the mirror, without looking at it. Didn't want to look anymore than he had to.

"I've never heard of that species before," said Peters. "Gallif… what did you say?"

"Forget it," said Jenny, helping him into the passenger side of the police car. "I think we'd better head back to the station, though. Because if my suspicions are correct… then your Zillwell Machine isn't what you think it is. And we're in very deep trouble."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: This story is a little rougher than usual. I apologize. It was one of the last stories I wrote, and I was going to make it cleaner before I decided to drop the series. So I'm posting what I have.

In terms of my independent story, I've been wrestling with an idea, and I think I'm going to go with it. It means the backstory is very different for a number of my characters, so the characters in my independent fiction won't be the same as my fanfics. But it's true to the genre I've created in my fanfics, and it maintains the blended universe I've created of sci-fi mixed with the fantastical.

I'm a bit sick, right now. So I'm gonna sign off and go to sleep early.

Enjoy!

* * *

Jenny zoomed through the streets of the city.

Dodging people, right and left, as she raced the car down the streets at break-neck speed.

"But… what is the Zillwell Machine," Peters asked, "if it's not what we think it is?"

Jenny screeched the car around a tight corner.

"Thing is — the Poilarin invasion always begins with a scout," said Jenny, ignoring his question and embarking on a subject of her own. "Sent ahead to a world, usually through a refugee fleeing a planet the Poilarin previously invaded. The refugee dies upon arriving on the new planet, and the scout moves into another mind. Whomever it can find that can help it achieve its goals."

"Goals," Peters repeated.

Jenny slammed on the breaks, seconds before hitting someone. Waited until they passed. Then floored the accelerator, zipping down the street. "Getting its mates to the new planet, of course!" she said. "Usually by opening up some sort of wormhole between the two worlds and then beginning the cycle all over again."

"Wormhole!" cried Peters. "The Spacio-Temporal Engineering department was on this planet! _They _liked to make wormholes!"

Jenny gave a small laugh. "Yeah, and if _they'd_ constructed this device, your world would be dust by now. And we'd be quarantining this entire galactic sector."

She swerved around a corner, the car nearly tipping, but managing to hold itself upright.

Peters frowned. "Then who…?"

"Oh, think, Peters! You said it, yourself, earlier!" Jenny shouted. Then, hurriedly, "No, actually, don't think — you'll live longer."

Jenny honked her horn, just barely avoiding hitting another pedestrian.

"Listen, instead," Jenny said. "The Poilarin scout's not hard to find, if you know what to look for. Intellectual type — usually a brilliant scientist. Or a gifted student. All of a sudden, she — or, in this case, he — undergoes a change. Skipping the research he'd been pursuing during his studies, previously, and instead devoting all time and effort to something completely different — sometimes, completely outside his field."

"And then trying to finish the required university work by plagiarizing and faking experimental results," Peters said. "It's the plagiarist, isn't it? His mind was infected by a Poilarin scout."

"Yes." Jenny screeched to a halt outside the police station. Then turned to Peters. "Which should be impossible. Because the Poilarin died out several thousand years ago. Like I said."

Peters didn't understand. "Then how…?"

"A time traveler intervened," said Jenny. "That's why this should never have happened. A time traveler must have brought the Poilarin here, and probably died the moment he or she arrived. The Poilarin scout latched itself onto Aldor Caveer — and _that's _why Caveer built the Zillwell Machine. As a wormhole."

"The Zillwell Machine?!" Peters cried. Shook his head. "No. Impossible. It's not a wormhole, it's a temporal…"

"Nope, nothing temporal — the Zillwell Machine's just a wormhole," Jenny cut in. "Connecting Irkoli to here." She turned off the ignition. "_That's_ why the MIT Spacio-Temporal Engineering department figured out the danger before the wormhole could fully form. They brought it to the MIT labs — to stop it."

Peters nodded, slowly.

"They must have teamed up with Material Sciences to create a shield that could plug the wormhole and stop the invasion," Jenny said. "But a few Poilarin had already come through. Those Poilarin killed everyone at MIT, and started infecting the rest of the population. Destroyed your world, collapsed your society… you know the rest."

"But that Zillwell Machine _can_ predict the future," said Peters.

"A side-effect of the Poilarin's excretions, maybe?" Jenny guessed. "Or maybe even the Poilarin in your heads, manipulating you into doing what they say so it looks like they can predict the future? Maybe it's just something to try to convince you open the wormhole completely. I don't know."

Peters grimaced. "You think they're spooking us about our futures and how we'll die to make us smash up the machine?"

"Which means removing the dome on top, first," said Jenny, "and letting the others in." She shrugged. "It's what anyone from Irkoli would have done."

"Oh."

A small smile crept up Jenny's face. "But… of course… Irkoli had never seen Christopher Zillwell's movie."

"A future, once predicted, grows infinitely less likely to happen," Peters recalled from the movie. "The reason we can't arrest people for future crimes, until they've actually done something wrong."

"And the reason you lot haven't removed the dome and let all the rest of the Poilarin into this galaxy," said Jenny. "The Poilarin can drive an entire world to the brink of destruction. But they can't override the impact one brilliantly made movie has on humanity."

Peters shrugged, again.

Not sure what to say to this.

Jenny's smile fell, and she opened the door. "Problem is… I think someone _did_ want to remove the dome to that machine," she said. "Someone fully human, who didn't realize that thinking could kill him. And wouldn't have had the mental shields to stop the Poilarin from taking him over and using him as a puppet."

She left the car. Peters following her out.

"And _that_," Jenny concluded, holding the door to the station open for Peters, "is why Seo shot him."

* * *

Hopper couldn't quite believe her eyes, when she saw Peters again — so much older in such a short time! And carrying around a dome that looked almost identical to the one around the Zillwell Machine.

But Hopper could believe it even less, when she heard the story that Jenny had told Peters.

"An alien invasion from another galaxy?!" Hopper cried, bursting into the lab — where Jenny was analyzing the bullets from the crime scene. "You've gotta be kidding!"

"I've encountered the Poilarin before," said Jenny, with a shrug. Her eyes never straying from the bullets she was analyzing. "The warning signs are all the same."

"Brainwave eating aliens that excrete time distortion," Hopper said, repeating what Peters had told her. "And built the Zillwell machine as some kind of wormhole. Except before the Poilarin could get out, you say that MIT sealed the wormhole and stopped the invasion." Hopper hmphed, glaring at Jenny. "It's a lie. MIT destroyed our world."

"No, they saved it," said Jenny. "You've been made to believe MIT are the bad guys, because the Poilarin are inside your heads, manipulating your thoughts — at least to a certain extent. And the Poilarin didn't want you nosing around MIT, figuring out the truth."

"I thought you said all the Poilarin got trapped when that white dome plugged up the wormhole," Hopper pointed out.

"Most of them are!" Jenny replied. "But a few Poilarin escaped into this world before the MIT scientists could plug the wormhole." She turned to a microscope, analyzing something in detail. Then punched a button on its side, and data spurted out onto a screen-sheet beside her. "Trust me, if the Poilarin had arrived on this planet in full force — everything here would be dust, and you lot would all be long dead."

Hopper fumed. "So that's your explanation? Aliens?!" She shook her head. "It's ridiculous."

"No," said Jenny. "It makes perfect sense. I told you Seo wouldn't have shot Jack without a good reason. This is the reason."

Hopper turned on Peters. "She can't be serious!"

"She seems to know what she's talking about," Peters replied. Gestured at Jenny. "And… she's right. It all fits."

"Of course it does," Jenny said. "I know for a fact that this is the Poilarin."

Then Jenny sighed.

And scooted her chair back, dropping the readouts into her lap. "But it looks like Seo didn't."

Hopper crossed her arms. "I thought you said she shot Harkness to stop them."

"Well, yes — to stop an invasion, of course," Jenny said. "But she clearly hasn't run into the Poilarin, before. She didn't know what they were." She showed Hopper the test results. "That's the composition of all the bullets Seo fired from Jack's gun. See? Not what you'd expect from a 21st century revolver."

Jenny pointed at a section of the readout, as if to illustrate her point.

And Hopper skimmed her eyes across it, shaking her head in annoyance. "What, exactly, am I looking at, here?"

"A special kind of pure-iron bullet," said Jenny. "The outer coating burns away when the projectile's fired, leaving an injection of pure iron inside the body. I've heard through the grapevine that it's a very effective method of destroying vampires, developed in late 2004, shortly before the vampires vanished from the Earth."

Hopper tried to stop her jaw dropping open in incredulity. How was anyone swallowing this?! "Vampires?!"

"That must be what she thought it was," Jenny replied. "A vampire who'd gotten stuck inside the machine, and was feeding off the rest of the planet. The Poilarin inside of Jack's mind would have encouraged this line of thinking, so she could help him break into the room with the Zillwell Machine."

"We've got an audio track of what happened when they broke in," Peters offered. "Or… snippets."

Jenny spun on him.

Staring.

"And you didn't think to mention this when I first turned up?!" Jenny cried.

Peters and Hopper exchanged looks. And shrugged.

"No, of course — think too hard, and the Poilarin will kill you even faster," Jenny muttered. She ran a hand over her face, trying to quell her frustration.

Then, in an only slightly edgy voice, "Peters. May I please hear the audio you have of Seo and Jack inside that chamber with the Zillwell machine?"

* * *

_"…must have been brought through by one of those piano drops,"_ Seo's voice said, on the recording. _"Through a wormhole…"_

A flicker on the recording.

Then Seo's voice again: _"…a number of Great Big Ones who'd fled this dimension back during the Dark Times. Mom told me that…"_

Seo stopped. Suddenly choked up.

Then, much quieter, added, _"Let's just focus on getting rid of it. One drop, and…"_

Jenny bit her lower lip, hearing it all play out. She could guess what had happened in Seo's life, between the last time she'd seen Seo, and now. Why Seo was so upset about her mom…

But there was no point in dwelling on that.

Not when the fate of the Milky Way depended on Jenny understanding what had happened, in that room with the Zillwell Machine, when Jack and Seo had been inside.

The audio flickered, again.

And burst back into life with the sound of a fight and a scuffle. Jack grunted under the force of a smack — sounded like a collision with one of the walls.

_"What are you doing?!" _ Seo's voice demanded. _"I said wait! I missed something, Jack! It's not a—"_

Another flicker of the audio.

Followed by Jack's voice: _"…only way!"_

The sound of footsteps towards the machine. Followed by Seo, suddenly horrified, breathing, _"Oh, no. You're not really…"_

The sound of the machine suddenly humming.

_"Get away from that!"_ Seo cried.

Followed by the sounds of another fight, both of them yelping and whacking and grunting under the impact of blows and strikes and lunges.

_"What did you do?"_ Seo said, past the sounds of the fight. _"What's that machine — your way of properly feeding on this population?!"_

Jenny sighed.

Seo obviously hadn't studied the equations carefully enough. As usual, she'd skipped past the boring researchy, mathematical bits and had gotten right down to wiring up the computer and tracking down the student who'd begun this whole thing.

Another series of loud crashes, followed by a cry of pain from Seo, and a bang that resulted in another grunt from Jack.

_"Oh, no; I'm not letting you near that thing, again!" _Seo said. The sound of a gun cocking. _"I don't know how or when you got into Jack's head, but he gave me this, way back when this whole thing started. Maybe he could feel you inside his head, and wanted me protected. I don't know."_

The fight sounds stopped, all at once.

_"Seo,"_ Jack's voice said, on edge.

_"It won't kill Jack," _Seo warned. _"But it'll kill you."_

A shot.

Then the sound of footsteps running. And Jack's voice calling back, _"Please, Seo! Don't do this!"_

Then the audio cut out.

Peters stood back a little, absorbing this. "You know," he said, "we should have listened to that sooner. It could have told us a lot about what was going on."

Jenny decided it'd be best for all parties involved if she didn't grab him up by the shoulders and shake him, screaming, 'of course it would have!'

She had bigger things on her mind.

"She didn't undo whatever Jack had done to the machine," Jenny muttered. Turning on her heels and racing towards the chamber with the Zillwell Machine. "Seo thought there was only one creature! She thought the machine was a way to help it feed or something — and that getting rid of that one creature would be enough to stop all this! That's why she chased after Jack!"

"But… she shot Jack with the vampire-killing bullet," Peters pointed out, racing after Jenny. "Why is he still alive, if she…?"

"The Poilarin aren't vampires!" Jenny shouted. "And there are a lot more than one!"

Peters had begun wheezing, struggling to keep up.

Getting older and older by the minute, and growing stupider and stupider at the same time.

Jenny knew she shouldn't yell at him — it wasn't his fault.

"Seo chased Jack down and cornered him," said Jenny, slowing as she punched in the code she'd seen Peters use, earlier, and entered the room with the glass panel. "He's a fixed point in time — so she figured if she killed him with the pure iron bullets, the creature would die but Jack would spring back to life."

She tugged a bent paperclip out of her pocket, and headed over to the far door that led to the Zillwell Machine. Knelt down to pick the lock.

"But Gavin got in the way," said Jenny. "Just for long enough that another Poilarin could track down Seo and creep into _her_ mind. She's part-human — so she's more susceptible than me. She must have dropped into a coma to get her brain activity down to almost nothing, and stop the Poilarin from eating her."

Hopper rushed over, tried to pull Jenny away from the door. "What are you doing? It's not safe in there!"

Peters stopped nearby, wheezing and struggling to catch his breath. "We told you! The MIT scientists who studied the Zillwell Machine—"

"Died, I remember!" Jenny said. Scowled, frustrated at having to spell everything out for these people. "But that's because they were intellectuals, they were humans, and they were _thinking_! The Poilarin ate them — then excreted enough time distortion to turn them to dust."

Hopper and Peters looked at one another.

"All right — let her in," Peters decided. "After all..." He looked to his right, catching his reflection in a pane of glass — so old and withered, now. "...this is how it happens."

Hoppers eased her grip on Jenny.

To stare at Peters, with growing concern.

"It's not dangerous for any of us to enter that chamber," said Jenny, managing to extract herself from their grips, and returning to picking the lock. "You two aren't going to understand that machine if you tried — and the Poilarin are going to have a bit more trouble getting into _my_ mind than any mere human's!"

The lock clicked.

And the door swung open, Jenny racing inside.

"Stay here," Hopper instructed Peters, trying to stop him from following Jenny in.

Peters just pushed past her. Determined.

"Cop's gotta do what a cop's gotta do," he said, his voice now old and feeble, like the rest of him. "I've seen this all before, Hopper. I knew it was coming."

"You don't have to—!"

"Can't fight fate," said Peters, glancing over at Hopper. "You know that."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Sorry, I think my last author's note was confusing. I'll try to explain.

This _isn't_ one of the last stories I'm posting, from this series, on this website.

I just happened to _write_ it later.

Truth is, I write my stories out of order — I always write the season together, but I start with the stories in that season that have the biggest season-wide plot points. Usually, that's the beginning and end of the season. This season, I started with "One Word" and "Reunion". Then hit "Irkoli" and "We Must Survive". Then I worked my way through the middle of the season.

This story was one of the last because, as a Jenny story, it has a lot less to do with the overall plot of the season. I think "Mirror Vision" was actually the last one I wrote, but that one's more polished because I had to scrap everything and completely rewrite it at least 3 times before I was able to finish it. (And it sucks doing that when you're 100 pages in)

There are a total of 18 stories in this season. We're currently on story #8.

There are plenty of stories left for you guys to read.

(The disclaimer is basically explaining why I didn't edit this story as thoroughly as the others. Usually, I write more drafts than this. And take several months to edit what I've written. Instead, I've used that time developing my own independent universe.)

Enjoy!

* * *

"No," Jenny said, the second she entered the chamber and had seen the machine. It had only been a few hours since she'd seen it last… but already, it looked different. A lot more like the model in the movie — the wormhole-clogging dome almost completely eaten away. "The chemical reaction's already started! We're too late."

"Too late for…?" Peters said. Then stopped, just staring at the Zillwell Machine. "Hey. That looks a lot more like it did in the movie!"

"What happened to the dome?" Hopper asked.

"One drop," Jenny muttered. Bunching her hands into fists. "She said 'one drop'! She thought she needed to get rid of the dome to get into the machine and destroy its power. She created something to dissolve it!"

The dome was growing more and more transparent by the second.

And while Jenny knew she could resist a mental attack from one of the Poilarin… she didn't know if even a Gallifreyan mind could stand up to an attack by a whole _army_ of them.

"Well… can't you fix it?" said Hopper. "Build another one?"

"In the seconds we have left before that army breaks through?" Jenny shook her head. "I've left it too late! Unless there was some other dome just lying around, there's no way I could…"

Before Jenny quite registered what was happening, Peters had sprinted forwards. Carrying… a small dome in his hands. Something Jenny had seen back in the MIT labs — and had forgotten that he'd brought with him.

He held it up, ready to slam it down on the Machine…

"No, not yet!" Jenny cried.

Too late.

The second he slammed it down, the entire machine sparked and rippled. Peters screaming in utter agony, as a flood of energy swept through him, wrinkling the skin around his hands and face and then crumbling him into dust.

All in an instant.

Hopper cried out, hands flying up to her mouth, as she saw what had happened.

"Why did he…?!" Jenny stopped. Then sighed, her eyes never straying from the spot where he'd been killed. "The Zillwell machine and its predictions. He'd seen that this was how he was going to die."

"He died saving the galaxy," said Hopper.

Jenny gritted her teeth.

Because that was the most unfair thing about what the Poilarin were doing here — getting innocent people to kill themselves in the name of goodness… when it was all part of the Poilarin's trap.

"He _would _have," said Jenny, "if he'd _listened _to me, and waited until the first dome had completely dissolved."

Hopper spun back to Jenny. "What?!"

"The chemical on the other dome has already gotten onto this new one," said Jenny. "It'll dissolve it in hours — and with that MIT lab gone, we can't make a new one." She brushed back her hair. "Peters bought us time… but that's it. He hasn't saved anyone."

Hopper's expression turned angry. Seething. "You mean Peters died for nothing?!"

"Everyone here is dying for nothing!" Jenny shouted, throwing her hands into the air. "Haven't you figured that out?! Peters, putting that second dome on too early! Gavin, throwing himself in front of a bullet aimed at a man who can't die! Even—"

Jenny stopped.

Hands lowering… as she realized.

"Seo shot Jack with vampire bullets," said Jenny. "But the Poilarin aren't vampires. They _knew_ her bullets wouldn't stop them!" Her eyes lingered on the stray bullet embedded into the side of the room — from Seo's first shot. "So when she tried to shoot Jack, in here… why did he run?"

Hopper shook her head, confused. "What? Of course he ran! She was trying to kill…!"

Jenny grabbed Hopper up by the shoulders, suddenly. "It's not just a wormhole — it's a temporal wormhole!" she cried. "Combined with excess time distortion! Oh, why didn't I see that before? That's what Seo figured out! It's utterly brilliant!"

Hopper struggled to figure out how any of this made sense. "But… why does that explain why Jack ran?"

Jenny grinned. "Easy. The Poilarin made Jack run… because Jack's the way to stop them."

Then she turned on her heels and raced out the room. Down towards the morgue.

To Jack's body.

* * *

"I said it the moment I arrived — Jack was _wronger_ than usual," Jenny explained, as she made her way back upstairs, carrying Jack with her. "If the Poilarin had just drained his life from him, kept him lingering in death — he'd have felt normal. Not wrong at all!" Jenny shook her head. "I really underestimated my sister, didn't I?"

"Sister?" Hopper said, chasing after Jenny. "What sister? What are you talking about?!"

"I thought Seo had chased Jack straight out of that room with the Zillwell Machine and all the way down into the alley where I first met you and Peters," said Jenny. Shook her head. "But that's not how it happened. Can't be! If you hypothesize that Seo went somewhere else, first… it all starts to make sense. Gavin. Jack. Even Peters and the dome!"

"The dome," Hopper repeated.

"Yes, the second dome!" Jenny said. Sighed. "You don't honestly think the MIT scientists who barely had time to create the first one would have made _two_?!"

Hopper shrugged.

Hadn't thought of that.

"My sister _knew_ she'd mucked up, with Jack and the Zillwell Machine," said Jenny. "She didn't chase Jack down to the alley — she kept him away, and then returned to the MIT labs. Started the process of creating that second dome." She zipped around a corner, a small smile on her lips. "And, while she was at it, figured… if she was in the material sciences department… why not use their technology to her advantage and create a special type of bullet for Jack's gun?"

"The pure iron bullets," Hopper clarified.

"I thought they'd come from Jack — or someone who'd lived through 2004 on Earth," said Jenny. "But they weren't _exactly_ pure iron. 99% iron, and just a dash of something the scanner couldn't identify, but assumed had to be iron by process of elimination."

"But it wasn't?"

"Nope," said Jenny. "It was a dash of blood. Very specific blood, with very specific properties — Key properties."

"Key…?"

"Wormhole-manipulation properties," Jenny clarified. "The Poilarin didn't know what Seo had done, or what she was planning. But they knew it involved Jack, and could jeopardize their whole plan. They sent Jack off to kill her — but she turned the tables on him. Which is how they wound up in a blind alley. With you waiting for them. And Gavin certain that he had to sacrifice himself."

"I know that part," said Hopper. "But what I don't understand is how this dead body is going to stop the Poilarin from invading."

"Because it's a _temporal wormhole_," said Jenny. "Time. And a wormhole. Combined! Jack's a fixed point in time — able to reset no matter what. And the bullet that killed him contained an energy that could manipulate wormholes."

Hopper felt her head spinning.

Figured… there was no way she'd ever follow this explanation.

"The Poilarin filled Jack and this whole place with massive time distortion — have been doing so since they first arrived," said Jenny. "So the second Jack comes back to life…!" Jenny clicked her fingers. "Complete reset, back to how he was before. Clearing away the time distortion inside his head! Use Key energies to expand the reset outside his head… into the wormhole… and it'll be as if none of this had never happened in the first…!"

Jenny slowed.

Then stopped.

As she noticed every single member of the police force, now standing in front of the door to the Zillwell Machine. Their eyes murderous and glaring, many of them with guns in their hands.

"You will take Jack away from here, in your time ship," they commanded her, "and leave. Now."

Hopper gasped, in fear.

Jenny just faced them down — holding her own.

"And if I don't… I'm guessing you've got some other poor policeman you've convinced to race out and take the bullet for me?" Jenny said. "Just like with Seo. A policeman who just so happens to have a Poilarin tucked inside his head — ready and waiting to spill over into my mind, the moment he's killed."

"What?" Hopper squeaked.

"The other girl proved too… troublesome," said the Poilarin, through the many policemen ahead of Jenny and Hopper. "It was necessary to sacrifice one of us to stop Jack from coming back to life. And to summon to this planet a being — yourself — to give us access to the vortex."

"Someone who's already bested you, once before?" Jenny laughed. "Not your smartest move."

"You bested… _one_," said the police chief. Stepping towards Jenny, gun cocked and ready. "We are not one. We are multitude. We are legion."

Jenny's laughter stopped. "Ah."

She backed away, slowly. Watching as the Poilarin advanced on her, matching and mirroring her movements step by step.

"Hopper," Jenny said, giving her a glance, "have I ever told you what my favorite activity is?"

Hopper shook her head.

Jenny spun on her feet, lightning fast. "Running!" she shouted, sprinting into the distance. "Follow me!"


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: And the end!

Next up, "We Must Survive".

* * *

They sprinted through the police station. Navigating through the maze of pathways and corridors, ducking to avoid shots.

Jenny panted, as she kept hold of Jack. Tight as she could.

Despite that fact that his very presence was giving her a migraine of epic proportions.

"We can't lose them!" Hopper insisted, glancing over her shoulder. "They're…!"

Jenny shushed her, then darted around a corner, and slipped into a side-door. Plastering herself, Hopper, and the dead Jack against the wall — right behind the door.

And shushed Hopper, yet again.

"They're gone!" came the shout from outside.

Jenny thanked her lucky stars that this particular invasion had left her pursuers far stupider than usual.

"Must have gone into one of these rooms," said another policeman. He grabbed hold of the door to the room in which Jenny, Hopper, and Jack were hiding. Yanked the door open — so it almost banged right into Jenny's face.

But stopped, just inches away.

Concealing them all from view, as the policeman examined the room.

"Not in here," the policeman said, closing the door and heading off.

Jenny and Hopper both breathed a sigh of relief, hearing the policemen make their way down the hall and away from them.

Then slipped back outside, and managed to double back — away from the policemen who'd pursued them. And towards the chamber that held the Zillwell Machine.

But just before they arrived at that chamber, Jenny turned the other direction.

And headed towards the medical wing, instead.

"But the Zillwell Machine is back that…!" Hopper began.

Jenny quieted her. "It'll be guarded," she whispered. "And anyways… I don't need him to be right next to the Zillwell machine when it happens. Seo didn't try to kill him right next to the Zillwell machine."

Hopper frowned. "No?"

"No; she tried to kill him right next to _her_," said Jenny, using Hopper's key-card to unlock the medical ward. Raced inside, and set Jack down right next to the still-unconscious Seo. "And that's my plan, too. Barricade the door!"

Hopper did as she was told.

While Jenny, instead, focused on the medical machines around herself. Yanking them free from the wall and completely rewiring them, working as fast as she possibly could.

"About… what you said," said Hopper. "About someone throwing themselves in front of a bullet to save you." She hesitated, as she crammed a table in front of the door. "Way back, when I first joined the force, the Zillwell Machine showed me… a vision. Of how I'd die. Of you and a bullet, and then I—"

Jenny broke in with a sharp laugh, not stopping her work. "I bet it did."

Hopper's face went red. "What?"

Jenny glanced back over her shoulder. "Haven't you guessed by now?" she asked. "It was all in the movie!"

"In… the…?"

"The Zillwell Machine _doesn't_ give visions, Hopper," said Jenny, softly. She turned back to her work. "It _never_ has. You and the other policemen who claim you've used its projections to tell the future — you've been making it up. The whole time."

Hopper stared.

Jaw falling open.

"That's… that's… impossible!" said Hopper. "We know the future! We can't have…!"

"You claim that, when you joined the force, you saw me in a vision of how you'd die," said Jenny. "But you didn't jump the first time we met, or go white as a sheet or anything when you were holding me back from Gavin. Just like Peters didn't react when he first saw that second dome. And Gavin could never have known that Seo and Jack would arrive here, back when he was part of the force."

Hopper opened and closed her mouth a few times.

Speechless.

"But… but…" Hopper shook her head, trying to clear it. "But you said there weren't that many Poilarin on this planet! We've been using the Zillwell Machine to successfully catch criminals for ages, now. The crimes it predicts _have_ happened! They…!"

Jenny just gave Hopper a long, sad stare.

"What?" said Hopper, twitching uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," Jenny said. "I know you stood outside waiting for the crime to happen, because you thought you'd seen it in the Zillwell Machine. But the truth is… you didn't take the short-cut." She shrugged. "We ducked into a forensic lab, when we hid from those policemen, a few minutes ago. It had been in use, recently."

"We… don't need forensics!" Hopper insisted. "We have the Zillwell machine! We can…!"

"You do forensics all the time," Jenny countered. "You just don't remember it. Because every time you do it, the intellectual endeavor causes the Poilarin to chew through your memories of carrying out the forensics, as fast as that memory is made. It's why policemen always die so young."

"But…!"

"Thing is, you cops work part on intellect, part on instinct," Jenny went on, returning to her work. "The instinct remained, even after the intellect vanished. Instincts built on the evidence you'd all unearthed! The Zillwell machine was a cover story — to explain how you caught so many criminals. And later… the Poilarin used your belief in it as a weapon — to drive you to your deaths."

Hopper couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"But… our planet went to war over it!" Hopper said. "Our whole world died because—"

"Your world died because the Poilarin invaded it," Jenny countered. She shook out her hand, as the bit of machinery she was hooking up sparked, violently. "And, afterwards, people struggled to figure out what had happened and why the world looked like this. If governments _had_ actually fought over the Zillwell Machine — it wouldn't have wound up staying right around where it had been built. Would it?"

Hopper supposed not.

But it was still a lot to take in.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny. "Your Zillwell Machine couldn't see the future any more than that machine in the movie. It's just a temporal wormhole to facilitate an invasion — that's all."

She stepped back, admiring her work.

A smile lighting up her face.

"There," said Jenny. Dusting off her hands. "Finished. Oh, and…" Gesturing at Hopper. "You might want to get back."

"Get…?" Hopper began.

But was interrupted by a loud banging at the door. The juddering of force against the barricade, as the cops finally found out where they were. And began trying to get in.

"Not a moment too soon," Jenny said. Grabbed Hopper by the arm, and thrust her back behind the machine she'd just cobbled together. "I mean it — stay back. With your Zillwell Machine a fake, you've never seen an actual gateway into the vortex. But I have."

"Gateway into…?! What?!" Hopper said.

Jenny adjusted some switches. "Seo isn't the only one with special blood," she said. A gleam in her eyes. "My dad's the last Time Lord, you know. And I got _his_ blood. And that means…" She pounded her fist down on a button. "I have a special connection to the vortex."

The machine beside Jenny burst with a brilliant white light, spiraling in a swirl of colors and time and concepts — too great for any nearby to take in.

It emitted a sudden burst of energy, making everything in its wake — every scrap of wood, every gurney, every flake of paint or bundle of carpet — wither and age and decay, in an instant.

Everything… except Jack and Seo.

"Come on," said Jenny, adjusting something on the side of the machine she'd built. "Come back to life, Jack! I know you want to!"

The shouting grew even louder, outside the door.

As Hopper just stared at the swirl of light that was the time vortex. An odd expression growing on her face — as she stepped forwards, hand outstretched.

"I've seen this before," Hopper said, as if in a trance. "This is how I'll die. My destiny—"

Jenny caught her by the wrist, lurched her back. "Don't be stupid!" Jenny shouted. "I told you, Hopper — you saw _nothing_! It _wasn't real_!"

"No," said Hopper. "I saw it. Back when I first became a cop, the Zillwell Machine showed me how I'd die. There was this swirling portal of light, and I—"

"A few minutes ago, you said the Zillwell Machine showed you charging in front of a bullet to save my life!" Jenny insisted. "It's not real, Hopper! It's the Poilarin, trying to stop me. They know what I'm doing, and they're desperate!"

But Hopper wasn't having any of this.

She threw Jenny back, and lunged for the machinery. "It's not going to work!" Hopper shouted. "I know what I have to do! Give my life to save the galaxy!"

She darted towards the stream of temporal energy, before Jenny could stop her.

"No, wait!" Jenny shouted.

But that was the moment that — with a gasp — Jack jerked back to life.

The entire world froze around them.

And then… in a single hiccup of time, space, and the universe — the world condensed into a tiny little ball. A singularity of impossibility, squeezing Jack and the time distortion together and making him scream…

And in that scream, the current reality shattered.

Replaced by a new one.

* * *

Seo's eyes popped open, as she suddenly sat upright, in a burst of motion.

And took in her surroundings.

"MIT infirmary," said Jenny, gesturing at the busy hustle-and-bustle around her. "It's quite a nice place, actually, when it isn't in decay and ruin. They give you access to all the latest tech and everything you need to conduct high-scale experiments from your sick-bed."

"Plus," said Jack, coming into view and tugging the shade away from the window, "right outside of Baker House."

He winked.

As, outside the window, Seo could see a piano hurtling through the air at an acceleration of 9.8 meters per second squared, and smashing into the ground with a splintering CRUNCH.

"Gotta hand it to you, kid," said Jack. "You said Jenny'd be at Baker House during the annual Piano Drop. And you were right."

Seo took this all in.

Her face falling into utter and complete glee. "I did it." She jumped out of bed, clapping with excitement. "I did it! I actually did it!"

"Yes, you managed to use Jack's resurrection and reset to reset the wormhole," Jenny agreed. "Like it never existed in the first place. The time distortion wiped the whole thing from history — which really shouldn't have been that easy, come to think of it."

Jenny paused.

Then added, "Maybe it's just because I stepped in and leant you some of my brilliance."

Seo turned to her. "What? Oh, that. No, that's not impressive — that's just invention born from necessity." She grabbed Jenny by the hand, and practically dragged her out of the hospital. "What's impressive is — I _found you_! You, Jenny, who are brilliant and have done all kinds of studying and learning about Time Lords and time things. And do you know what that means?"

Jenny turned to Jack, a little desperately.

"Don't look at me; she's been going on about this for _days_," Jack said, with a shrug.

"It means," said Seo, heading back to her ship, "that you can fix my chameleon circuit!"

"Chameleon circuit?!" Jenny cried. "What's a chameleon circuit?!"

* * *

On the roof of Baker House, MIT students were wrapping up their formal Piano Drop gala. A symphony orchestra playing a medley of works from across Earth's past.

And below, Jenny emerged from Seo's ship.

A ship that still looked like a shamble of colors and shapes in no particular order.

"All right," Jenny said, with a sigh, wiping a smudge of grease from her forehead. "Given that I didn't know a chameleon circuit existed until about twenty minutes ago, and that I've never actually seen a working one… I think I've done pretty well."

Seo bounced on her toes, expectantly. "You fixed it?"

Jenny shook her head. "Couldn't figure out how to do that," she admitted. "But I did find out how to jam it in a single shape. So that it'd at least blend in with _something_, at _some_ point in time and space."

She stepped aside.

"Wait for it," Jenny said. "Ten seconds."

The ship glowed, very slightly.

Then, all at once, condensed from a swirl of shapes and colors into… a single, solid object.

"There we go!" said Jenny, proudly. Touched its wooden sides. "Saw these on Earth, at one point, and thought — wouldn't it be wonderful to have a ship that looked like one? So I figured…"

Jenny trailed off.

As she saw the look of growing horror on Seo's face.

"What?" said Jenny. Looking between the blue paintwork of the ship, and Seo. "What's wrong?"

Jack began laughing.

Uncontrollably.

"What?" Jenny insisted. "Your ship now looks like a 1960's police box. It's brilliant; I mean, who else would ever think of having a time machine that looks like a 1960's…?"

"Who else?!" Seo screamed, launching herself at Jenny. "Who _else?!_ Don't you _know?!_"

"Definitely the Doctor's daughter," Jack commented. "What can I say?"

Seo shoved Jenny back inside her ship. "Fix it!" she shouted. "Anything else! Anything at all! Just _not a police box_!"

"Does one of you want to tell me what this is all about?" Jenny demanded, as she disappeared inside Seo's ship. "I mean…!"

* * *

By the end of the next day, Jenny had managed to jam the chameleon circuit into the shape of Seo's old ship.

With glass panels in the shape of a smallish pillar.

"I don't know, Seo," Jenny sighed, when she was done. "This doesn't blend in with anything. It's just sort of… weird looking." Shook her head, sadly. "The police box idea was better."

"If slightly unoriginal," Jack put in.

Jenny shrugged. "How was I supposed to know? I've never seen Dad's ship, before."

Seo examined her ship. A large grin on her face. "It's perfect," she decided. "The best shape there is!" Then swept Jenny into a tight hug. "Thanks for fixing my chameleon circuit."

Jack, behind them, cleared his throat.

Pointedly.

"Oh, and… um… thanks for saving the galaxy, too," Seo put in, hurriedly, at Jack's reminder. "And our lives."

"Don't mention it," said Jenny. Withdrawing from the hug. "We should do lunch, sometime. Catch up. Maybe save the universe."

Seo beamed. "I'll pencil you in for the 50th of Jencil, 5072," she said. "Planet Habinot, café…"

"Naw, let's do the Planet Zeranx," Jenny cut in, "at café Silco." Shrugged. "I know the guy who runs it. Saved him from the Colofontair, a while back. Brilliant crepe suzettes."

"Colo—?"

"Long story." Jenny turned back to her own ship, in the distance. "I'll tell you more over lunch. But for now… I want to go investigate more about these 'piano drops'. They seem fascinating."

Jack and Seo watched, as she disappeared into the distance.

Towards her own ship.

Which, annoyingly enough, wasn't shaped like a police box or anything wonderful like that. Just a big, metal ship, looking annoyingly ship-like.

But it was home.

"Monsters to fight, pianos to drop," said Jenny, heading to the cockpit, "and a lot of running still to do." She started up the engines, launching the ship into the vortex. "Yesterday's another day."


End file.
